A Certain Warmth
by sleepyaugustus
Summary: Jason is missing and Reyna is cold. :: Prompt fill for pjowriters on tumblr.


**A Certain Warmth**

**PROMPT: "**_Could you do a Jeyna oneshot?_**" - anonymous (tumblr)**

* * *

Reyna settles into the hard leather desk chair of her study. A personal dwelling was given to her as soon as she had been ranked praetor, a small townhouse amongst the chipped cobble streets of New Rome. Somewhere she can be alone. Private. Safe from the prying eyes of the fellow Roman Legion.

Camp Jupiter is curious, she knows. They are afraid to approach the topic that which has been eating away at her for close to three months now, she also knows. Not that they hadn't been intimidated by her before, but no one wants to overstep the boundaries of their fearless praetor.

The cow hyde material sticks to her skin, squawks as she shifts, and she sighs, closing her eyes and letting her head fall into her hands tiredly. She _is_ tired. Exhausted, even. She misses him.

And she is cold.

* * *

"Jason Grace," Reyna taunted with a slow smirk. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Blue—striking, _melt-__its__-way-through-your-stone-cold-heart,_ blue—eyes flung up to meet hers. His smile was sheepish. "You found me."

Her knee knocked into his playfully as she took a seat next to him at the bank of the Little Tiber river. His sandals sat off to the side, carelessly tossed over his royal purple cloak that had also been discarded. He rubbed his neck like the material had been choking him in the last few hours and stuck his feet into the water.

"I guess I did," she told him. "What's got you out of bed after curfew?"

The beautiful California night sky shone above them. Little white stars freckled the blanket of black like millions of microscopic torches. "I could ask you the same, I would imagine."

Reyna bit back a smile. Jason was the only one ever brave enough to challenge her. Sure, being intimidating held her place of authority above others quite nicely and came in handy most days, but it was nice to have someone to keep things interesting.

"Couldn't sleep," she admitted. Her eyes kept steady on the reflected moonlight of the water, but they itched to move to the side, see how the light danced across Jason's familiar features. She wanted to know what he looked like at midnight on a Thursday, idly drawing mindless patterns into the wet sand with his thumb.

Jason sighed and she felt him shift. His hand, the one that had been drawing, was inches from hers. She could feel the warmth, almost sense the distance between them. Jason was always warm.

"I can't stop thinking about the quest," he mumbled, eyelids drawn closed.

Understanding settled over her like a thick cloud and she grimaced. "I see." Although she was known for her rock-hard exterior and above anything fearless attitude, Reyna knew she felt antsy about their close-approaching quest in which they were expected to go about the country in seek of Imperial Gold.

She wasn't allowed to let people know she was nervous. That even some part of her felt_scared_. Jason had been on quests before – he had found and slayed the Trojan sea monster and brought glory to his cohort in their time of shame. He knew the consequences and possibilities of any demigod leaving the safety of their camp, knew what could come of this if they were not yet prepared to survive in the "real world."

Reyna remembered the real world, and no, she wasn't keen on going back.

But this was for the good of her camp—her family, in a sense. The only one she _had_excluding her sister Hylla, who was too busy being the Queen of the Amazons to so much as a write a letter to her little sister. After what happened in Alaska back with the old fifth cohort, their legion was struck dry of material to make weapons. This quest was high priority and she was secure in the fact that she needed to step up and take responsibility. It was her role, after all.

"The last time I left…" Jason trailed off. He opened his eyes and they found hers immediately, like moths to flame, he could always find her. "We lost two of our own, Reyna. That _can't_ happen with us."

Her throat felt thick, an uneasy lump forming. She had to reassure him, because they couldn't be weak. Not now. "I suppose we won't let it, then."

"Reyna," he whispered. White light streamed down from the waxing crescent moon above them, bringing half of his face into an immortal glow, and the other half was an obscured mask to the world. She couldn't help but think that he definitely lived up to the whole "half-god" thing right about now.

Jason's hand moved the remaining centimeters between them, and he laid it gently on top of hers. He was warm, as expected, but it wasn't only the heat his body provided. Jason Grace was a warm person. His personality lit up Reyna's cold exterior, and his smile could melt her straight to the core.

When he moved his thumb over her knuckles softly, grainy sand tickling her skin in the best way, warmth surrounded her. Buried itself in her chest, flooded over her mind, and coated her skin. Jason had this effect that she couldn't deny—didn't want to, at least.

"We're both coming back," he stated adamantly. "I refuse anything less than that."

"Jason-" she tried, because he couldn't get his hopes up. Any quest, even one that seemed simple and harmless, could prove fatal for a demigod. Monsters didn't hold back because your mission was meant to be quick and easy.

He interrupted her, but not with words. His fingers entwined with hers through the wet sand, squeezing a little and molding the mud between their palms. It was his desperate attempt to get her to leave it alone. To let them believe—for now—that they would be okay in the end, regardless of the probabilities they faced.

So, for now, she could give him that. They didn't know whether the upcoming quest would be their last journey together, and if it wasn't, there would be another one after that which could be their last. It was a volatile and frightening life they lived, but it was simply how it was. And as praetors, they stepped up for the good of their people, no matter how uneasy they felt about it.

But right now, on the bank of the Little Tiber at midnight on a Thursday with Jason's hand tangled in hers, she could pretend that there was no chance they'd be separated. Not for this quest, not now, not ever.

And hopefully that would be enough.

* * *

Reyna picks her head up, eyes burning. She forces air into her lungs, letting the fresh new oxygen soothe the sting in her chest. The room feels frosty around her, despite the summer weather outside of her house. Her jaw clenches and she commands the wetness clouding her eyes to evaporate.

A sharp knock startles her from her moment away from reality. Quicker than most would think possible, she's back. Spine straight, shoulders broad, any sign of weakness instantly obliterated. Praetor Reyna answers to no emotion she wishes not to deal with.

"Enter," she calls, voice strong. Firm. Powerful.

She ignores the freezing gust of wind as she is informed—once again—that there is still no sign of Jason Grace.

* * *

**A/N: Originally posted on November 13th, 2014. Hope you enjoyed! If you want to see more fanfiction for the Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus series, check out the group page on tumblr at pjowriters! Send us prompts and read my friends' fics!**


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